


A Good Time?

by Feavel



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Multi, Performing Arts High School AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 23:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13844910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feavel/pseuds/Feavel
Summary: Co-authored by @somewhathonestabe on TumblrThe gang are seniors (and a few juniors) at a performing arts high school just outside Baltimore and get to deal with all sorts of drama--both in the theater department and outside it.





	A Good Time?

**Author's Note:**

> "It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream." -Edgar Allan Poe  
> 

Edgar sat, backpack at his feet, staring out of the window of his sister's VW bus as it rumbled down the road. He always stared out of the window; this was nothing new, but usually it wasn't out of avoidance like it was today.

Who was he kidding? It  _was_ typically out of avoidance. Krishanti had the radio blaring some Top 100 nonsense, as usual, and she was singing along with a voice akin to that of a crow being stabbed with a plastic fork. Lenore had her classical playlist turned up to its loudest volume on her headphones as she texted, her thumbs flying across her screen. If he hadn't seen it a million times before, Edgar would have been worried that the friction would cause the phone to catch fire. But alas.

Krishanti turned carefully into the school and turned again into the parking lot. The hair on the back of Edgar's neck stood up as they approached the scattered red and black buildings. He felt less like a senior and more like a freshman again, all nerves and awkward limbs and confusing feelings.

With a flick of the wrist, Krishanti parked the car and turned it off, then leaned over to grab her purse from the passenger seat. Lenore turned off the music and yanked out her earbuds as she stepped out of the van. Edgar followed suit, however unenthusiastically. He'd learned the hard way that his sisters wouldn't let him stay in the car, and he was too tall to practically hide anywhere (that hadn't stopped him from trying freshman year, but that was  _not_ what he needed to be thinking about).

Lenore cast him a look and sighed. "Chill out, bro. You're not a freshman anymore."

 _Try telling that to my brain_ , Edgar thought, but knew better than to say. He slung his backpack over his shoulders and buried his hands in his hoodie pockets as he approached the school.

-

Inside the main building, everyone darted to and from lockers. Freshmen stared at maps and schedules nervously; upperclassmen chatted with old friends. Edgar went to his locker and opened it. His things greeted him like his own old friends: pictures of him, Krishanti, and Lenore as kids, smiling like goofballs; a photo of him and the rest of the trivia team holding trophies and wearing medals; last year's theater program, with his name next to the words "assistant stage manager", highlighted; all taped to the inside of the door. Some of his old notebooks lined the shelves, and the winter coat he had forgotten was still hanging inside.

Edgar was shaken from his reverie by a familiar sensation: the short, quick  _tap-tap_ on the shoulder that could mean only one thing.

"H.G.!" Lenore shouted from halfway across the hall, where her locker was. Edgar turned to see that it was, in fact, H.G. Wells, waving back at Lenore with his small, timid smile. H.G. turned back to Edgar.

"Hello, Edgar," he said. "How was your summer?"

Edgar smiled. "We spent most of it within a mile of each other, H.G."

"Just wondering," H.G. said with a small shrug and a shy dart of the eyes. He adjusted the glasses a little.

Lenore approached the pair, now bearing some of her notebooks, and gave H.G. a small hug that made his cheeks turn a bit pink. Lenore either didn't notice or was a good enough sport not to say anything about it. "Hey, H.G.! Long time, no see."

"It's been a week," Edgar said, shooting her a confused look. She glared a little in response.

"How have you been?" H.G. asked, oblivious to Edgar's comment.

Lenore shrugged. "Could be worse."

"You aren't gonna tell him about the breakup?" Edgar asked. During the summer, Lenore and her boyfriend Guy de Vere had broken up. She was the one who ended things, so she hadn't been too torn up about it. Why she did it, Edgar didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care to. He had already overheard enough.

"Oh, no; what happened?" H.G.'s eyebrows furrowed sympathetically.

"Oh, Guy and I broke up." The corner of Lenore's mouth twitched up in an unconcerned grimace. "Nothing too dramatic," she added, seeing H.G.'s eyebrows come even closer together than before. "I was the one who did the breaking up. Everything's fine now."

"Ah." H.G. nodded, fiddling with the wire in his spiral notebooks. "I'm sorry, but I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks," Lenore said with a sincere smile, before casually flipping her hair out of her eyes. "What kind of classes do you have this year?"

"Well, Theater Three, of course," H.G. started.

Lenore grinned. "Of course."

"Also AP Calculus, AP Biology, AP Literature, AP World History, AP Government..."

"Wow, nerd much?" Lenore joked, nudging him with her elbow.

H.G. shifted a little uncomfortably. "Well..."

"Relax, I'm teasing," Lenore said, raising her eyebrows and giving him a warm smile. Edgar rolled his eyes, but H.G. followed her instructions, visibly becoming less flustered.

"Ah. And I'm taking Theater Tech Two," H.G. added. "What about you?"

"English Four, Honors Anatomy and Physiology, American History, Psychology, 3D Art Two, and Yearbook. And Edgar has AP Lit and Tech with you, Anatomy and History with me, and Theater with all of us, plus P.E., 'cause he forgot to take it freshman year."

Edgar rolled his eyes again; when he was with his sister, this happened a lot. "Edgar's also standing right here and can speak for himself," he quipped. Lenore made a face at him while H.G. chuckled.

H.G. glanced at his watch. "It's almost time for first period. What do you have first?"

"English," Lenore groaned. "With Mr. Smith."

"I thought he was the good one," Edgar said, closing his locker.

"No, he's the one who doesn't know how to run a class. Mrs. Goddard is the good one, but she only teaches underclassmen." Lenore shook her head.

"I've got Calc first," H.G. said. "Mrs. Kelly."

"I've got P.E. first," Edgar complained. "Who wants to trade?"

"Hell no," Lenore said. "I got that done when I was a freshman, like a normal human being."

"I was excused from it," H.G. supplied, just a little smugly. Lenore gave him a half-gentle punch on the arm, and the five-minute bell rang just as H.G. jumped.

The three exchanged quick goodbyes and went their separate ways; H.G. upstairs, Lenore toward the English hall, and Edgar toward the P.E. room.

-

Edgar slumped in a seat in the back of the class. Most of the students were chattering freshmen or sophomores, with a handful of juniors taking up a row in the middle. Edgar recognized one of them: Guy de Vere, Lenore's ex.

This was a bad omen. Definitely.

Guy glanced back at Edgar, waved politely, if a little weakly, and immediately turned to the front of the room. Just as he did, the door slammed open, and another very bad sign flung itself into the classroom.

Ernest Hemingway, gross mustache and all, slammed the door behind him and shouted, "'Sup, nerds and freshies! Who's ready to be done with this year, am I right?" Ignoring (or perhaps not noticing) the teacher's glare and the various rolled eyes among the students, Ernest plopped down into the only seat available: the one right next to Edgar.

Joy of joys.

"Ernest," Edgar acknowledged through gritted teeth, nodding stiffly. He was unfortunate enough to have known Ernest since the ninth grade, and the guy had by some miracle or manipulation managed to avoid getting kicked out of school at least twice every year. Visions of defaced desks and lockers hiding frankly insane amounts of alcohol and God only knew what else danced in Edgar's head as he turned away from Ernest to face the front of the classroom. The teacher, a lanky guy in a tracksuit, began lecturing about uniforms and proper conduct and all that. Same thing as every class, every year.

Ernest nudged Edgar in the arm. "So. You heard about the play we're doing this semester?"

"Ernest, we talked about it last year." It was  _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ ; they always did an older play fall semester.

"You gonna audition?"

"Why? You afraid of the competition?"

Ernest snorted. "'Course not." The look on his face might have said otherwise for a split second. "But, I mean, if you were, you wouldn't be happening to be auditioning for Puck, would you?"

Edgar shrugged. He wasn't one for acting as it was, and Robin Goodfellow would be a tall order for him, considering the sheer liveliness associated with the character and the sheer...moroseness Edgar seemed to radiate. Besides, rumor had it that Annabel Lee was auditioning for Hermia.

Ernest's cocky expression returned in full force. "I'm glad. Would be sad to have to see you even more disappointed than you usually are." Ernest pulled a can of Monster from his backpack, opened it, and took a swig as the teacher passed out the syllabus, sighing and shaking his head. On top of the page, in big, bold letters, were the words, "NO FOOD OR DRINKS OTHER THAN WATER!"

"Did you get that from your backpack?" Edgar asked Ernest.

Ernest nodded. "Yeah. Where else would you get it?"

"Anywhere other than a backpack." Edgar turned back to the syllabus, scanning through it. It was nothing special; same old rules about phones and attendance. After reading the sections about P.E. uniforms, the list of sports he'd have to endure, and the sex ed section, he wasn't sure which part made him want to die the most.

"Why?"

"Because my stuff would get all wet from the condensation?"

"Oh, yeah. You see, I'd thought about that. But I found a solution." Ernest slid the backpack closer to Edgar's desk so he could see inside it. Edgar didn't know whether to laugh or to scream.

Ernest's entire bag was filled with energy drinks.

-

As soon as class ended, Edgar grabbed his backpack and left the classroom, shoving the syllabus in the bag as he left. He walked fast enough to avoid Ernest as he got distracted by the rush of students, and he moved quickly toward the science building. Mrs. Kirk was tolerable enough, and the subject was interesting. Besides, Lenore would be there, at least, and Ernest probably wouldn't.

Edgar pushed past the crows and headed off the path so he could cut across the grass, but then someone touched his arm. After pulling away instinctively, Edgar turned. It was Guy.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" Guy asked, looking concerned.

Edgar froze momentarily, then shook his head. "Look, if you've got a problem, talk to my sister. I've gotta go to class." Normally, Edgar wouldn't mind delays, but he sure as hell didn't want to talk to Guy about his sister's love life.

"Look, I tried." Guy looked at him pleadingly. "She hasn't been responding to any of my texts or calls or anything."

 _Maybe she's avoiding you for a reason,_ Edgar thought. Lenore had had plenty of exes, but she never cut them off completely unless she felt like she had to. But Edgar didn't say anything. He just shrugged and said, "I'll pass on the message."

Guy beamed at him. "Oh, thank you. Just tell her to call me, all right?"

"Got it." Edgar backed away onto the grass.

"Great. Thanks!" Guy waved at him as he rejoined the other teens heading toward their classes. Edgar waved back weakly before turning and dashing toward the science building.

**Author's Note:**

> So Edgar and Lenore are siblings, ofc, but Krishanti is their older sister in our AU. She's the biological kid of Mr. & Mrs. Allan, and Edgar and Lenore were adopted by the Allans, so Krishanti's last name is Allan and Edgar and Lenore are Allan-Poe.  
> So there's that.


End file.
